OKAY LIFE HAPPENED AND MY LAPTOP LOST EVERYTHING I HOPE I RESTORED WHAT YOU LOVELIES DESERVE.

here is what i hope is an adequate enough chapter, and I'm striving to re-do the old chapters I had already! some warnings for more graphic dreams from a certain sheriff.

thank you hope you enjoy, again sorry for the holdback. :)

"Stop." Emma pulled back from Regina, her eyes questioning her, pouring into her, her hands pulled back and she stepped away, her body language showing the hurt but her face pulled into a small smile, and she nodded her understanding becoming small and feeling deflated.

"No! I mean, well we can't Emma. i want this but right now I just need a friend." Emma nodded again and when it seemed to pull her face down and dragged her spirits with it, regina pulled her chin up so that she could meet her eyes.

"I'm not trying to be.. Cruel here." Her eyes paused and instead of looking at her, they seemed to drift off as she found a way to drag herself back having found the words. "I want this, i probably need this but our son, Emma, he can't be treated like this. He would need to know, I would need to be sure of anything before anything would happen." She pulled emma's face back up when it started pushing down again, heavy in the weight of her hand. "Please, I need Emma, my friend not Emma, my…" Her eyes flashed with horror as emma glanced up hopefully "Not Emma I could care for, because we both know i can't even care for my son let alone myself." Her hand dropped and she began to turn away, emma's expression tearing through her as the sorrow was quick to flash through emma's eyes, she had to conceal her own emotions she had a son, who she could not hurt like this, if it all went horribly wrong what would it do to henry? What would it do to Emma? Would she take him from her? Would she do that now? What would she say to him? How would Emma take this? What…. She was cut off by emma speaking up and clearing her throat, fooling herself into confidence.

"I understand. It's the most sensible thing to cross either of our minds so far. But.." She saw regina' shoulders fall and feared it as she tried not to choke on her words."But if this is ever something you want from me, tell me, but I will stay. Even if I'm just a friend, I'm not abandoning you, Regina. So please, please don't abandon me?" It became a question as soon as She turned around and saw the pained look in the sheriff's eyes that she could see reflected in her own. She nodded as a silent motion of understanding, and gestured for Emma to follow her upstairs. Maybe she would talk about certain horrors tonight, because she knew there must be another horrid memory of her mother to be harshly recalled tonight, but as she saw emma when she spoke and the way she plummeted through her words as her emotions fell through, she hoped she had to be there for her tonight.

She plonked the small duffel bag on the covers of her new bed in her small room with her new family. There was no use counting how many days she would stay here, the covers where a stained-grey and the curtains were drawn to let in a bleak sad light into the small, dusted broken room. There was a guessing game she liked to play here, how many before herself? The scratches on the old desk and pen and pencil marks meant that it had to at least be half a dozen, she turned when she heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and nonchalantly pulled her arms and folded them in her chest blocking out the usual welcome, when she saw the woman's pinned up hair though, the thin pursed lips, her business like-attire, and the low emotion in her face, she realised this time she would have to listen to the rules if she was going to test the level of comfort she would have staying here while she scraped up things to get herself gone.

The usual uptight bitch, it would seem, she slowly unpacked her things, which wasn't much, but she kept her blanket, extra cigs, and spare sock-money in the duffel that she quickly hid under the bed. She gauged she could spend a week here, at most. She made her way silently down the stairs when the call for dinner was made, at precisely 7pm, when she had been previously told, that was when she met the other kids that they had here, and she could quickly tell it wasn't because she was going to be loved here, it was almost as if they were here as a statement to their society friends, in the hall, there was a large table and plates set out in front of the chairs that were there, four for the kids and one for the woman who had met her this morning, a final chair at the end of the table was without a placemat. Even if this was her home for the next few days, no father to share it with.

"He comes home late at night, make sure you're sleeping." She turned to her left where a girl her age maybe two or three years older than her, who looked like she knew what she was doing by sitting down, napkin in her lap, somewhat pleased with the small pile of food in front of her, she turned to speak to her and ask her why, though she was pretty sure she knew, and that the girl knew what she had told her, but she was quickly silenced by the 'mother' at the head of the table sitting down, the harsh scrapes of her chair making awful scraping sounds against the floor.

Dinner was quiet, and they all left up for their rooms when it was cleaned away. When she was about to leave and push through the door, when the same girl pulled her back with her hand on her elbow.

"I mean it." And with that she turned away to turn behind a door with a soft 'click'.

That night went by slowly, she was sitting and waiting, trying desperately to fall asleep, and the anxiety set in each time she heard the soft hum of cars going past, bunching herself up into a ball, curling her arms around her knees that she had pulled up to her chest under the cold covers that coated her.

And then a click.

And then a stumble.

And then slow muted footsteps.

And shut your eyes, slow breathing and keep it paced, and the door opened, creaking slightly, and shut back again, but the stumbling was in her room and she could smell the alcohol on him, and the cigarettes, and felt his breath close to her cheek, his wandering hands pushing her down on the bed and keeping the covers closed.

"Such a beauty." and the words left a foul taste in her mouth, he ripped of her clothes.

"Pretty girl, do you have a pretty name?" Emma shook her head, tears spilling out of her eyes. She had to not sob, he would make it worse, he would hurt her, like everyone else always had.

"Emma." She let out weakly, as he pushed her down. She bit her lip, tears springing to her eyes from the pain and from him bearing down on her, pushing himself against her.

"Well then Emma, you have to behave for me." It wasn't a question, he wasn't asking anything of her, he was already touching her, pushing his hands to unwanted areas, and Emma knew even if she was asleep when he found her, she would have been awoken by him pushing himself into her.

No begging.

No whimpering.

No sounds.

Because it won't make him stop, she knows, from experience, that it will egg him on, and some of the disgusting creeps she knows, will have been encouraged by it, would have asked for it.

And when his hand slid upwards to cover her mouth, she slammed her eyes shut, begging the tears not to reach his hand. But they did, and it made him more forceful. And he pushed into her, making her curl herself up into a ball, her way of squirming to escape, trying to convince herself into believing it wasn't happening.

Not again.

And when in his drunken self finished his business, and left the worst of all thing she hadn't yet gotten from the terrifying experience, he left a kiss, on her collar.

Next time, she would sleep, if she had to take all manner of booze or pills to do so.

But for now she would wake up.

And she felt warmth beside her, and could smell something, alcohol like, and she ran off the bed, tangling in sheets and covers landing on the floor, hearing someone groaning and complaining when she heard her not so safe landing, untangling from the bedsheets she ran herself out of the room and down the massive staircase, not caring she was wearing weird silk, almost see through pyjamas as she bolted out the door and stood standing where she was. And when she saw the light flicker on from the bedroom window she panicked. So she fled the scene, running around Regina's back garden to get away, she fled into the forest, choking back tears, she landed herself on a tree stump that she didn't know where she was didn't matter, the fact that she was all alone in the woods confused and crying, didn't matter to her, she would make her way home when she could.

But what was home to her anymore?

It wasn't the last one she fled in boston,

It wasn't the loft in which she couldn't escape her parent's or her son,

But it couldn't be where she had fallen asleep with regina. She was supposed to hate her.

So why did she have the dream that she would have when she had a home?

Stern mother.

Late drunk father.

Unwanted man.

But then she would be awake, alone and at a place she called home.

The tears were streaming down her cheek and she almost didn't hear the soft footfalls of someone advancing in her direction. Almost. But she was quick enough from those years she would always remember, to hear the sounds that would warn her to run.

But that someone ingeniously was actually looking for her, to help her.

She woke with a start, she had felt so cold, and pulling the sheets off of her felt like torture, but it was more so to see that Emma had left, and abandoned her the small space where she had occupied the bed was hollow and cold and she felt more alone than she had when cora had spoken those last words.

Shaking it off, she stood up and pulled her robe around herself, shrinking those words from her mind, pushing herself away from the bed she dragged herself to look out of her window surveying the garden, a small forest of trees behind it leading to the woods she often visited before henry.

She kept calm trying not to let tears fall from the thought of henry not being in his room, when a flash of blonde hair was stumbling out of her garden, running almost, and it caught regina's eye, nose almost pressed against the glass, she leaned forward and made out Emma stumbling blindly into the forest, barefoot and barely dressed shivering from the cold. She pushed herself down the stairs, what was Emma thinking? She had left even her red jacket behind! Grabbing it as she left the already left flung open door and made her way down to the garden, she couldn't see Emma anywhere, had she imagined things? But she held emma's jacket as proof of the fact she had gone. Okay. Calm, she can't have gone far. Swirling her hand over the jacket to enact her form of a locator spell on the hideous garment, she followed it's glow to Emma. She was venturing deep into the woods and she had no idea if this jacket was going to lead her to her, but it was cold and Emma must be alone and henry would blame her for tricking the saviour into something. And why did emma leave? She felt a cool chill to the air and little droplets were making their way down from the leaves overhanging her from the trees above, the sky had begun to grey and she had to find Emma, the only thing leading to her was a light in this field of dark, ominous colours. The light got brighter, began to glow with a golden hue, as raindrops fell sharper and colder against her skin, and amongst the clouds forming and rain falling she could hear thunder as the grey sky flooded in with a darker presence than before, but as she trudged on she found the jacket lighting with more gold filling the red in her palms. And then she heard it, the low sobs and shakes of a lonely girl out lost in the woods, following the jacket slowly she heard them crack and break and the thunder and rain broke out in the sky forming its own storm of sorrow and in that moment she felt omniscient, knowing this was Emma's magic breaking out her pain, she found her alone on this small log in the forrest, hands cradling herself trying to stop her sobs from breaking out of her chest and breaking herself altogether.

"Emma," She breathed, wrapping the jacket around her as it's glow was all colourful and contented itself, returning to it's usual red leather look, and regina softly stroked her arms trying to warm her palms around her, and Emma barely even noticed she was there, she was stiff and had given up on tears as raindrops fell from the sky enveloping them in her pain.

"Emma..?" She was waiting for a response, and suddenly Emma twisted and turned and wrapped her cold frame around her sobbing and shaking and giving in, at the same time engulfing them in the whispy white smoke of her magic, transporting them back to Regina's bed, and neither cared that the mattress was damp, the embrace was keeping them both firm and stable.

"Emma, what happened?" But the saviours head only shook in her arms and buried herself in deeper refusing to talk. It seemed like endless moments had passed, and even though Regina grew cold and wanted to sleep, she knew she had to press on, because Emma had been there for her, infuriatingly managed to stay by her side when she thought she needed to push her away.

"Emma, you have to tell me. Even if it's not really this. You owe me two stories, remember?" Emma pulled back for the first time from what seemed like hours and big green eyes stared up at her, a mix of fear and need pooling there, and she pulled back fully, breaking most of the contact, burying her head in her hands, pulling her knees close to her chest as if it would stop her from breaking into tiny pieces if she spoke.

"It's not.. It's not the dream." Her voice caught as she tried to push it through the unwilling sobs echoing through her, and when she felt regina's warm hand drawing circles on her back, soothing her, she relaxed and felt spurred on. It gave her confidence.

"It's why I had it. I don't know, I've had it so many times before." Another hand joined the other by her arm, edging herself closer to the sobbing woman, she spoke softly in a voice Emma hadn't ever heard her use on anyone, not even Henry.

"Do you want to tell me about the dream, or why you think you had it?" Emma shook her head.

"It's too real, It… It would mean something." When Emma's tentative gaze climbed to meet regina's eyes she saw the confusion there, her eyebrows furrowing, trying to decipher what she said, and she knew, she'd had to tell her, and hope this side of her wasn't cruel enough to push her away.

"I mean, It's pretty much the same as yours, a crappy foster father, but you know, specific, I guess? It's um.. Happened to me before. Lots." She tried not to cry more at the brunette's sorrowful yet too-knowledgeable expression, and let her eyes drift to the soaked sheets.

"I have it, when I find home. Or my crappy version of it, but I'm upset because.." Her voice was strangled, it felt like she was a traitor to let the words out.

"Because I haven't had it since I came here. Until now. Not even before the curse broke." She heard Regina gasp and the hands at her side and back falter, and slip away.

"You only have that dream when the home isn't real, is it? Emma you can't be my home. I'm.. evil." she spat out the last word but Emma didn't notice.

My home?

Regina saw her as her home?

"I'm your.. Home?" At regina's open 'O' Shape of a mouth Emma could have laughed, instead she pulled regina closer enveloping her in a warm embrace without tears of sorrow, hurt or pain. Tears of happiness, meaning and acceptance.

"You're my home, too."